


Finding Thom E. Gemcity

by punkcatknitter



Category: NCIS
Genre: Attempted Angst, Case Fic, Community: nfacommunity, F/M, Gen, Psychological Drama, Thom E. Gemcity, WEE Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-23 14:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkcatknitter/pseuds/punkcatknitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He should have known better. </p><p>A Thom E. Gemcity movie gone wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [McMhuirich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/McMhuirich/gifts).



> This fic was written for McMhuirich based on the prompt, "One of Thom E. Gemcity's novels is made into a feature film. McGee's happiness is shortlived when a ruthless killer targets the crew turning the whole project into a disaster." No ruthless killer, but hopefully she's willing to overlook that. ;D No beta, so I hope it isn't a mess. I'll post one chapter per day until it's done. 
> 
> Banner I made for the story:  
> 

He should have known better.

Tim sat down on the end of his bed and took a deep breath.

He was a screw up, he always had been. He was the kid everyone bullied in school. The kid who crashed his 1984 Camaro Z28 the day he turned sixteen, which was also the same day his parents gave him the car. He was the probie who made enough mistakes to nearly get fired on more than one occasion.

He closed his eyes. He’d made so many stupid mistakes over the years, he was surprised he still had a job. And someone had gotten hurt right in front of him and he couldn’t even control it.

It had all seemed so exciting at first. They were making a movie out of his first book. The book he had written heavily based on his friends at the Naval Criminal Investigative Service.

That was his first mistake.

Tim stood up and walked over to the window. As the weather got colder the nights just got darker and darker. It seemed he could barely get home in time to take Jethro for a quick walk around the neighborhood before it was pitch black out.

He sighed, his mind flitting back to his failures.

The books he had written got him mocked and head-slapped like crazy for months, and had nearly gotten Abby killed when a psychopath targeted her because of something he had written. And that had been the last book Thom E. Gemcity wrote.

It had been the last thing Tim wrote, period. It had been five years since that day. The books were mostly out of print and the money was all gone thanks to his poorly chosen hedge fund investment. There was hardly a single reminder of his writing career until someone decided to resurrect the film rights purchased at the peak of his popularity.

Jethro nosed at Tim’s hand and whined.

He leaned down to gently scratch the German Shepherd in his favorite spot, just behind his left ear. He would be forever grateful to Abby for guilt-tripping him into taking the dog. Knowing Jethro loved him unconditionally waws sometimes the only thing that got him out of bed in the morning.

Straightening, Tim’s eyes fell on his old manual Remington typewriter, which had been reduced to a prop sitting on one of his bookshelves, collecting dust.

It was strange how such a happy time had so quickly turned into something so terrible. All Tim had wanted to do his whole life was write. He’d thought it would make everything better.

Instead it made everything so much worse.

Tim had let everyone down.

Jethro whined again, and Tim walked mechanically into the kitchen and picked up his dish. Jethro sat patiently beside his owner as Tim dragged a giant bag of dry dog food out of a cupboard and refilled the dish.

As soon as the dish touched the ground Jethro began gulping his food down. Tim silently returned the back of dog food to its cupboard and walked over to the fridge to find something for himself to eat.

He stared inside at the nearly empty shelves for a minute before closing the refrigerator door and leaning against the counter.

He wasn’t really hungry anyway.

Tim made his way into the living room and turned on the TV in a last ditch attempt to distract himself, to take his mind off the mess his life had become. He sat down on the couch and flipped channels until he settled on a popular crime show re-run.

He watched for several minutes until the main character, who was in mortal danger at the moment, began reminding him too much of Abby, causing painful scenes to flash before his eyes. He changed the channel to the news and muted the sound.

Nearly losing Abby during what later came to be known around work as the “Deep Six Case” had been hard, but it was knowing that what he’d written was what ultimately put her in danger he couldn’t forget. It became something that continued to haunt him for years.

Every time he looked at his typewriter, every time he saw one of his books after that, all he could see were Abby’s eyes. Her eyes, wide, scared, and filled with tears. He saw them when he closed his eyes at night and when he woke up in the morning. If he hadn’t been able to break his contract for that last book… who knows. Giving the advance money back hadn’t hurt one bit, even when he had to turn his Porche back into the dealer because he couldn’t afford the payments anymore.

It had all been worth it because he wasn’t putting anyone else’s lives in danger anymore.

It just hadn’t been worth the risk.

His writing ‘career’ became just one more item on the list of ways Tim had screwed up his life. No one else needed to keep track of that list, every item was indelibly stamped on his brain.

Tim stared at the television screen, the images being presented not even registering. It had been awhile since he had felt this bad, since he’d been paralyzed by feelings of inadequacy and unable to snap himself out of it.

While he was at MIT, Tim saw a therapist a few times. She confirmed much of what he already knew, that he suffered from Generalized Anxiety as well as Panic Disorder and depression, both of which made worse by an overbearing, perfectionist father.

_“You can do better.”_

Tim heard those four words more times in his childhood and adolescence than he could possibly count. Enough so that he believed it.

In some ways, the pressure was good for him. He was always motivated to be the best he could possibly be, to keep working hard. It got him a 4.0 GPA and a scholarship to MIT.

But none of that was enough for Admiral John McGee. He pushed and pushed and pushed until Tim couldn’t take it anymore and pushed back. Joining NCIS had begun as a desperate attempt to please his father without actually joining the Navy and had ended up becoming his greatest rebellion.

Tim took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Leaning his head against the back of the couch he knew it was time to get things together, to get back to work.

_“Suck it up and be a man, Probie,”_ he could just about hear Tony telling him. _“What’s wrong with you?”_

Bracing himself, Tim leaned forward and opened his eyes again. No more moping, he told himself and turned the volume on the TV back on.

Just in time to hear the newscaster discussing his latest nightmare.


	2. Chapter One

“Probie!” Tony’s smile that day was wide and unnerving. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!”

Tim entered work feeling fairly happy. He was having a good week, or at least a much better one than he’d had in a long time. He’d gotten up before his alarm to walk Jethro, actually taken the time to scramble eggs for breakfast, and still managed to make it to work almost exactly on time.

Tim paused in between Tony and Ziva’s desks with a suspicious look on his face. “Didn’t tell you what?” He hated when Tony seemed to know something about his life that he shouldn’t.

“About the movie!” Tony practically bounced on his way around his desk. “I can’t believe I had to read about it on a fan site.”

Tim glanced sideways at Ziva, who was smiling genuinely at him. He wasn’t sure if he was annoyed that Tony found out or just confused. “A fan site?” There had been a couple fan sites back when his books first came out, but they had been long abandoned by now.

“Tony is apparently a fan of you on Facebook,” Ziva told him.

“I don’t have a Facebook account,” Tim protested weakly, continuing on to his desk. Damn it, he’d known the news was going to get out but he hadn’t planned on it being this soon. He’d forgotten about the fan operated Facebook page, which would have been easy to resurrect and update people on a wide scale.

“Thom E. Gemcity does,” Tony informed him, looking far too delighted with himself. “Or at least a very well informed fan who likes to pretend to be you.”

If he remembered correctly, the well informed fan was a thirty something woman named Marissa. Tim had corresponded with her a few times when she’d first set up the page.

“Is it a secret?” Ziva asked, looking a little confused.

Tim shook his head. “No, it’s not a secret. I just didn’t expect anyone to find out this quickly.”

“You should be shouting it from the rooftops,” Tony informed him, clasping an arm around Tim’s shoulders. “Make hay while the hay shines. Leave no stone un-”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, DiNozzo.” Gibbs strode through the bullpen, tossing his coat onto his desk and immediately reversing direction and heading for the stairs. “The Director wants everyone in his office. Now.”

The three agents all looked at each other, similar expression of puzzlement on their faces.

Tony let his arm fall from Tim’s shoulders. “I wonder what that’s about?”

“Perhaps someone has an axe to grind,” Ziva suggested, winking at Tony as she started for the stairs.

Tony shook his head as he watched her pass. “I’m beginning to think she only butchers idioms now to mess with my head.”

“She does.” Tim put his coat on the back of his chair and dropped his backpack behind the desk. Ziva had confessed that one to him on a stakeout late one night. It hadn’t started that way, but now her mixed up idioms were just a way of toying with Tony.

Tony was left standing in the bullpen, mouth gaping open like dying trout. Tim couldn’t help but smile as he climbed the stairs. He didn’t get the chance to know more than Tony very often. This time he was going to enjoy it.

Vance’s secretary waved the trip into the director’s office. Gibbs and Vance were sitting at the conference table, talking quietly amongst themselves.

Gibbs motioned for Tony, the last to enter the room, to close the door behind them. As he complied, Ziva and Tim chose seats next to each other at the table, to the right of Vance and across from Gibbs.

Tim watched as Tony predictably took his seat at the opposite side of the rectangular table from Vance, instead of sitting next to Gibbs.

Vance leaned back casually in his chair. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called you up here.”

“I don’t suppose you want to give us a raise?” Tony quipped.

Vance narrowed his eyes and Tim watched Tony visibly shrink under his gaze. “No, I don’t want to give you a raise.”

“I got an interesting phone call today,” Vance told them, “from an Evan McKinley.”

Tony sat up quickly. “Evan McKinley the director?”

“Told ya he’d know who he was,” Gibbs muttered to Vance.

Tony turned his gaze on Tim, who struggled to not let Tony see him squirm. “He’s the director who’s directing McSecretive’s movie.”

“It’s not my movie,” Tim muttered.

Ziva seemed to sense his discomfort and spoke up. “What does a movie director want with NCIS?”

“He wants to shoot some scenes at the Navy Yard,” Vance told her.

Tony’s eyes grew comically large and he leaned forward. “A movie? Shooting here?”

Tim was floored. Yes, he had been sort of excited that someone still thought his book was worth making a movie out of, but he’d also been relieved that he wouldn’t have to be a part of it. Now they wanted to shoot scenes in DC?

“For some reason, SEC-NAV thinks it’s a good idea,” Gibbs told them, looking annoyed. “And if they’re going to come here, they’ll need babysitters.”

Tony was almost bouncing in his seat with excitement.

“What about our caseload?” Ziva wanted to know.

Tim nodded his agreement. Surely they were too busy to be babysitting a film crew around DC. There were always too many cases for everyone to handle.

“Caseload won’t be a problem,” Vance reassured them. “The other teams will take over the more urgent cases and this team will just have to rearrange schedules while filming is going on.”

Tim turned to Gibbs. “You’re all right with this, boss?” He really couldn’t imagine Gibbs being all right with escorting a bunch of actors and film crew around instead of working on active cases.

Gibbs glanced at Vance and shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Nothing I can do about it.”

“The crew has been given a two week deadline for their filming,” Vance added. “The Navy isn’t prepared to allow them any more time than that.”

“When do they get here?” Tony asked.

“Within the month,” Vance said. “A more definite time frame should be nailed down this week.”

“This is going to be great.” Tony beamed at everyone. “Did they say if they’re going to need any real live NCIS agents for the background?”

The left side of Vance’s mouth tilted upward slightly with amusement. “You’ll have to ask them yourself, Dinozzo.”

 

***

At this point, Tim began to get a little more excited. This was possibly his best chance to finally prove he wasn’t a screw up anymore. That it was more than just a career choice to work at NCIS, that he deserved to be respected.

Tim knew logically in his head that he deserved to be respected, that everyone deserved to be respected, yet he couldn’t seem to make himself believe it, not really. He couldn’t tune out that little voice in the back of his head telling him he wasn’t good enough, that he’d never be good enough, that things were never going to get better.

After all, if he was such a good agent, how come Gibbs always picked Tony over him to do the most important interviews, pick up the biggest suspects, take all the out of the country trips? He might not be a probational agent anymore, but he still wasn’t as good as Tony.

Maybe he never would be.

The afternoon after the meeting with Vance passed slowly. Gibbs was off talking to either Ducky or Abby, and Tony was using his absence as an excuse to dig up information on Evan McKinley.

“Ooh!” Tony exclaimed, for about the twelfth time in the past hour. “An inside source says they’ve cast Chris Winston in one of the leading roles. He must be playing me.”

Ziva glanced at Tim and rolled her eyes. “You mean Agent Tommy.”

“Yeah, whatever. This is going to be great!” Tony kept typing and didn’t notice Gibbs come around the corner.

“Get back to work, Dinozzo,” Gibbs snapped, giving him a firm head slap on his way by. “You can play on the internet on your own time.” He dropped a file folder on Tim’s desk. “McGee and Ziva, go interview the petty officer’s girlfriend. We need to find out if he’s only UA or he’s trying to desert.”

Tim was already standing up and throwing his coat on. “Yes, boss,” he said, grabbing the file folder and his backpack.

“What about me, boss?” Tony could be heard asking as Tim and Ziva boarded the elevator and hit the button for the lower levels.

Ziva glanced at Tim. “Has Tony been more exhausting lately or is it just me?”

“He has been kind of irritating the past couple days.” Tim shrugged. “I’ve sorta been expecting it though. You know how much movies mean to him.”

“True.” Ziva adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Nonetheless, he is going to be insufferable when that film crew arrives.”

Tim didn’t know how to respond to that. Tony was likely to be more obnoxious than usual with the film crew around, but Tim couldn’t really get mad at him for that. Movies were a huge part of Tony’s life. Being a part of filming one would probably fulfill a lifelong dream for him.

Ziva was watching him, studying him when the elevator reached the lower floor. “You are right, we should give him some slacks on this one.”

“Slack,” Tim corrected instinctively.

Ziva winked at him as she exited the elevator, reminding him that she knew exactly what she was doing. He followed her into the parking garage where she chose her own vehicle, which sadly meant that Time wouldn’t be able to talk her into letting him driving.

It was going to be a long ride. Metaphorically anyway.


	3. Chapter Two

The first day there were no clues that anything was to go wrong. The day started out normal, at least until Tim got to the bullpen ten minutes early and Tony was sitting at his desk.

“You’re here early.” Tim frowned suspiciously at Tony, who stared back at him with a fairly good expression of total and utter innocence on it. He might have gotten away with it, except, well, Tim knew Tony.

“Just getting an early start on work,” Tony said.

“The film crew is arriving today and might drop by to meet everyone,” Ziva explained from her desk.

“Ah.” Tim nodded. “That makes much more sense.”

“Hey!” Tony protested. “I work hard.”

Tim was getting settled at his desk. “Yeah, at least when you’re being supervised.”

Tony pretended to pout, which was usually a signal that he was proud of Tim’s retort. If there was one thing Tim had learned how to do well in the years he had worked at NCIS, it was how to make witty responses.

“Is Gibbs here yet?” McGee asked.

Tony made a production out of looking around and behind him. “I haven’t seen him yet.”

Ding!

Everyone turned to look at the elevator, but it was definitely not Leroy Jethro Gibbs who walked out.

No, the man who walked out was rather short, completely bald (clearly not by choice) and was talking loudly on what Tim could only assume was a bluetooth device in his ear.

“I don’t care if his scenes aren’t scheduled to be shot until Wednesday, I want Adler in his trailer by tomorrow morning!” The tiny man was wearing dark denim jeans and a brown blazer with elbow patches. “I don’t care how hung over he is, get him on the plane!”

“Suppose he’s the actor playing Palmer?” Tony leaned forward and addressed the comment to Ziva, who rolled her eyes at him.

Short and Bald was apparently done with his phone call. “All right, who’s in charge of the cubicle forest?”

Gibbs tapped Short and Bald on the shoulder from behind him.  
The three agents exchanged glances and Tim mentally cringed.

Short and Bald whirled around. “I’m looking for the man in charge.”

Gibbs glanced over at Tony, silently questioning the existance and identity of this man. Tony shruggged. “That would be me,” Gibbs replied.

Short and Bald stuck out his hand. “Evan McKinley. I’m the director for Deep Six.”

Tony rose as if drawn by magnets, but Gibbs motioned for him to sit and he obeyed.

“Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.” Gibbs accepted Evan’s hand.

As they were shaking hands, the elevator dinged again and a slim blonde stumbled out. “Sheesh, Evan,” she said, struggling to hold and armful of binders in one arm and a duffel bag in her other hand. “It wouldn’t have killed you to hold the elevator two seconds for me.”

“Time is money, sweetie,” Evan told her.

Her hazel eyes narrowed and she shook the choppy layers of her short blonde hair out of her face as she approached Evan.

She dropped her duffel bag near his feet. “I told you not to call me that.” She turned to Gibbs. “Hi, I’m Chloe Ryan. Script doctor.”

Gibbs shook her hand. “Script doctor?” he asked.

“Yeah, the guy Evan hired to write the original script insanely screwed up the story and they brought me in to fix it.” Chloe grimaced. “Plus it was ridiculously inaccurate so I was hoping to get a chance to pick one of your agent’s brains.”

Tony raised his hand.

Gibbs glanced back at the team. “Put your hand down, Tony.”

Tim was starting to feel a little bad for Tony, who was so excited that he was now squirming around like a toddler who needed to be taken to the bathroom. This was a huge moment for Tony.

Evan leaned towards Ziva and offered her his hand. “I thought Gemcity invented such an attractive woman working at NCIS.”

“Apparently not,” Ziva said, shaking the offered hand and shooting Tim an amused look. “My name is Ziva David.”

Gibbs turned around and began walking towards his desk. “Go ahead and introduce yourself, DiNozzo, before you explode.”

Tim watched with amusement as Tony shot out of his seat like a cannon, talking a mile a minute as he introduced himself to both Evan and Chloe. Tim had gotten distracted with some paperwork when he heard Tony say, “And over here we have Thom E. Gemcity himself, better known as Special Agent Timothy McGee.”

Evan simply nodded at Tim, but Chloe’s eyes got very wide. “Seriously,” she said, rushing forward to shake Tim’s hand. “I didn’t realize you worked here.” She took a brief moment to glare at Evan. “Someone should have told me. Would you be willing to help me out with a few parts of the script?”

Tim was rather thrown off by the attention, which he hadn’t been expecting. “Uh, I um, I don’t really write much anymore,” he mumbled.

“Please? It would really help me out to know how you imagined the scenes originally.”

“I uh, I have a lot of work to do…”

“He’ll help,” Gibbs stated from behind her.

“Really?” Chloe turned around and beamed. “Thank you so much. Mr. Gibbs. I promise I won’t take up too much of his time.”

Tim shot Gibbs a horrified look from behind the young screenwriter.

“Take all the time you need,” Gibbs told her with a slight smile.

By the time Tim opened his mouth to respond, Chloe had already dropped her duffel bag beside his desk and was piling binders in front of his computer. It looked like he was going to work on that screenplay after all.

***

The morning passed quickly. Tony cheerfully took Evan around to introduce him to the rest of the staff and give him a tour of the building, while Chloe began showing Tim the problems with the script and her plans for fixing them. Gibbs and Ziva simply caught up on paperwork.

Despite his initial trepidation, Tim was already enjoying himself. Chloe reminded him a lot of Abby, she was quirky and outgoing, had no problem expressing her own opinions and had the ability to talk people into doing things they wouldn’t do otherwise.

Like working on the script.

Tim had initially thought he would just give her a few of his opinions of her re-writes, but within an hour she had him helping her map out better constructed dialogue and explaining exactly the way he’d pictured scenes unfolding when he’d written the book.

It didn’t hurt that she was fairly attractive. Tim had to admit having Chloe’s full attention focused on him was flattering. He wasn’t sure if she was flirting, or just being friendly, but it was nice to feel appreciated.

After Tony and Evan came back after the tour, Gibbs sent everyone off for lunch. Evan left to pick up some cast and crew who were arriving at the airport, and Tim offered to drive Chloe to her hotel since it was only a few minutes away.

“I really appreciate this,” Chloe told him as they got in the elevator. Tim had offered to carry her bag but she insisted on hefting the duffel on her shoulder, saying she could do it herself.

“It’s no problem.” Tim smiled. “I had to go grab lunch anyway.”

“I feel like I’ve got a much better grasp of the characters now.” Chloe hugged the thick binders to her chest. “I’m sure everyone will want to kill me in the morning when they get the revised pages, but the scenes should be much better for it.”

“Glad I could help.”

When Tim dropped her off at the hotel, he watched Chloe lug her bags inside and sighed. It had felt good being involved in the writing process again.

He stopped at a local sub shop to pick up a quick sandwich and then headed back to the Navy Yard. Deciding to eat at his desk, he put his food there and headed to the break room to pick up a soda.

“I just do not like her.”

Tim paused in the hall leading to the vending machines when he heard Ziva’s voice.

“Something about her just, rubs me the wrong way.”

Tony snickered. “You almost sound jealous there, Ziva.”

“I am not jealous,” Ziva insisted.

Tim hesitated, leaning against the wall. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but there was a part of him that wanted to know where the rest of this conversation was going.

“Oh please,” Tony said. “Chloe was flirting with McScreenWriter all morning long and you looked like you were eating lemons.”

She was flirting with him? Tim hadn’t been sure, but if Tony thought so…

“I am not having this conversation with you,” Ziva said after a pause. “I simply do not trust her, that is all.”

Tim slowly back up a few steps and then continued down the hall, making sure his footsteps were loud enough to be heard.

“Hey guys,” he said, giving Tony and Ziva a quick smile on his way to the vending machines.

“Probie,” Tony greeted him. “How’s the newest member of the Thom E. Gemcity fan club?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tony,” Tim said simply, retrieving his soda.

“Would you like to join us?” Ziva asked, indicating an extra chair at the table.

Tim shook his head. “Not today. I’ve got some work I’d like to finish while I eat.”

“Stop working so hard, you’re making us look bad!” Tony called after him as he left.

***

Several hours later, Evan stopped by with four members of the main cast. As soon as they stepped off of the elevator the entire bullpen quieted. It was obvious that the newcomers were the ‘famous’ people everyone in the building had been talking about for weeks.

“Ahem.” Evan cleared his throat.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. Tim was wondering how long it would take until Gibbs snapped at Evan. Evan had quite the egotistic view of himself and his importance. Gibbs was unlikely to put up with his smugness for very long.

Evan rolled his eyes. “Mr. Cheerful over there is Special Agent Gibbs,” he told the newcomers, pointing to the silver haired man.

Probably won’t be long now, Tim thought, biting the inside of his lip so he wouldn’t smile at Gibbs obvious irritation.

“Special Agent Tim McGee, Special Agent Tony Dinozzo, and Special Agent Ziva David,” Evan continued pointing.

A man with medium brown hair and blue eyes stepped up to Ziva’s desk. “Damn girl,” he said with a wide smile, “you have more curves than a race track.”

Ziva’s eyes narrowed. “And you would be?” she asked, sounding just sweet enough to make Tim and Tony exchange nervous glances.

“My name’s Chris Winters, beautiful.” Chris gave her a slow, lazy smile.

Ziva gave a low chuckle. “Let me guess, you’re playing Agent Tommy.”

He shook his head. “Actually, I play Agent McGregor.”

“McGregor?” Tony looked displeased. “Then who plays Agent Tommy?”

Chris motioned to the other man who was with the group. “He does.”

The man in question brushed back his black hair with his fingers and stepped forward. “Paul Blake.”

A familiar looking curly haired brunette stepped forward. “I’m Madeline Hesse. I will be playing Lisa.”

“And I’m Sabrina Ellwood.” The blond bounced forward and grinned at them. “I get to play Amy Sutton.”

“What?” Tony, Tim, and Ziva all said at once.

Gibbs chuckled softly. “Can’t wait until Abby finds out.”

Tony squinted at the brunette. “You’re Madeline Hesse, aren’t you? I didn’t know you were going to be here. I saw you play opposite Matt Damon in that movie last year!”

She gave a gracious smile. “It was a fun film to shoot. Matt’s a great guy.”

Tony stood up and held out his hand. “It is more than a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hesse.”

“Thank you,” she said, shaking his hand. “You can call me Maddie. Everyone does.”

“You don’t let me call you Maddie,” Chris complained, taking his eyes briefly off Ziva to frown at the actress.

“That’s because when you say it I have an urge to go dip myself in a vat of Lysol.” Maddie rolled her eyes.

Chris didn’t seem offended. Instead he turned back to Ziva. “You free tonight, gorgeous?”

Ziva leaned forward. “Sorry, I was planning on cleaning my gun collection tonight.”

“Oh! Feisty!” Chris laughed. “I like ‘em feisty!”

“She’s not kidding,” Tim warned. “And if she decided to shoot you, Abby would happily manipulate the evidence.”

“Is Abby the person my character is based on?” Sabrina said, bouncing in place a little. “I’ve been just dying to meet her!”

The pleased look on Tony’s face turned into a full fledged grin. “Can I take her to meet Abby, Boss? Pretty please?”


	4. Chapter Three

The next day, Tim bumped into Abby as he entered the building. He took one glance at her face and knew he was going to get an earful as soon as they were in the elevator.

“She’s blond!” Abby exclaimed the second the doors shut. “And perky! She can’t be Amy! Amy’s not perky! Tim, you have to make her stop!”

“I don’t have any control over casting,” Tim told her. “Besides, we haven’t even seen her acting yet. She might be really good.”

Abby shot him an incredulous look.

He cracked a smile. “Okay, so probably not.”

“She’s blond!” Abby whined, leaning against the back of the elevator. “I hope they at least dye her hair. Did you notice how she doesn’t walk, she bounces?”

Unfortunately, he had. Sabrina Ellwood was definitely not what he’d had in mind when he’d been writing Amy’s character. He’d imagined Abby, of course, or at least someone who seemed more like Abby. He’d already planned on asking Chloe about it if he got a chance, but she didn’t have any more power than he did.

When they reached the bullpen, Abby sighed. “I suppose I have to go be nice to her. Ugh! I’m going to kill Gibbs for promising them I’d help.”

Tim paused before getting out. “Aren’t you on the wrong floor?”

“No.” Abby crossed her arms and looked mutinous. “Gibbs left me a message that I should come up here as soon as I get in. If he thinks he’s going to foist that overgrown cheerleader on me again he’s got another thing coming…”

“Weren’t you a cheerleader?”

Abby turned dangerously narrow eyes on him. “This is not the time, Timothy.”

Tim tried not to smile as they exited the elevator. He and Abby headed right and froze.

The scene in the bullpen was not what either of them was expecting. Ziva appeared to be comforting a crying Maddy Hesse and Evan was ranting at Tony, gesturing wildly while Chloe sat quietly in a chair behind him. There was no sign of the rest of the cast.

“What’s going on?” Tim asked Ziva as they approached.

Maddy wiped her eyes. “When I left the hotel this morning there was a box in front of my door, addressed to me. When I opened it there was a note.” She took a deep breath. “And something bloody inside.”

“Abby!” Gibbs shouted across the bullpen. She hurried over to him while Tim was still standing dumbfounded in front of Ms. Hesse.

Gibbs held up a thin evidence bag. “Get this and the evidence downstairs processed ASAP. I need to know what we’re dealing with here.”

While that was happening. Ziva managed to get Maddy to take her seat and she walked up to Tim. “There was some kind of organ in the box,” she said, speaking low enough so Maddy couldn’t hear. “Ducky doesn’t think it’s human, but between that and the note, she’s pretty shook up.”

“What did the note say?” Tim asked.

Ziva pointed to the plasma screen, where a scan was displayed.

Tim took a few steps closer so he could see it clearly.

Go home, or else.

“Or else what?” Tim asked the room, feeling confused. That was it? That was the threatening note? It was kind of vague.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Evan said loudly, turning towards Tim. “I don’t have time for this crap. I’m supposed to be making a movie, not coddling actresses.”

That last part was obviously aimed at Maddy, who amazingly enough did not react. She simply lifted her chin and stood firm, not allowing Evan to agitate her further.

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time someone sends you a threatening letter,” Ziva said dryly, her eyes narrowing with disgust.

Maddy took a deep breath. “I can get to work any time you’re ready,” she told Evan.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Chloe interjected. “There are plenty of scenes we can shoot today without you, right?” She looked pointed at Evan.

Tim exchanged a look with Ziva. He was surprised at the authoritative way Chloe was speaking.

It must have shown on his face, because Evan looked over at him and laughed. “This is what happens when you hire your favorite niece, huh?” He rolled his eyes. “She orders you around.”

Chloe raised her eyebrows.

“Fine!” Evan threw up his hands. “We’ll shoot with Chris and Paul this afternoon.”

“What about Adam?” Maddy asked.

“Adam?” Tony asked, perking up.

Evan turned back towards him. “Adam Adler, he’s playing L.J. Tibbs.”

Tim cringed a little. What had he been thinking when he’d created that name? It was a miracle Gibbs hadn’t killed him.

“He’s kind of a hermit,” Evan explained. “You probably won’t see him much. I practically had to sedate him just to fly out here.”

Tony had a gleeful look on his face. “A hermit? Does he have a basement? Has he ever expressed an interest in building boats?”

“I don’t know.” Evan frowned. “But he hates the water. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing,” Tony murmured, avoiding eye contact with Gibbs.

“Take Tony with you,” Gibbs said, standing up. “The rest of us will try and nip the bud on our gruesome gift giver.”

Tony shot up. “Thank you boss!”

Ziva smiled at Maddy. “We will get to the bottom of this.”

“Thank you so much.” Maddy smiled back. “I’m not usually so wussy, I guess because I haven’t eaten meat in seven years I’ve gotten more sensitive than I remember.”

“That would have scared anyone,” Chloe reassured her. “It was gross and freaky.”

“Come on, Chloe,” Evan grumbled. “Time is money and we’re shooting a movie.”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever you say, Uncle Evan.”

Gibbs sent Tim and Ziva to interview Maddy in the conference room where they learned very little information, and even less useful information. By the time she took a cab back to her hotel, all they really knew was that she took her career very seriously, had no enemies, and on top of being a vegan she couldn’t digest gluten.

“Is it wrong to want a nice, rare steak for lunch?” Tim asked when Maddy was safe in her cab.

Ziva laughed. “If it is, than I am also guilty. I do not think I could handle that many restrictions.”

“Being Jewish, don’t you have a certain amount of dietary restrictions?” Tim asked, genuinely curious.

“Only if you follow them all.” Ziva winked at him as she passed towards the door.

***

After lunch, Gibbs paused on his way through the bullpen next to Tim’s desk. “Why don’t you go downstairs and see if Abby’s found anything yet.”

Tim looked up at him in surprise. Gibbs rarely sent anyone else to check on Abby. Not unless he was too busy with something else.

Gibbs cracked one of his rare smiles. “Vance approved Sabrina spending the day with Abby to observe.”

Oh. That explained a lot.

“Have fun in the lions den,” Gibbs called after him.

Predictably, Abby was waiting by the door to the lab, arms crossed, tapping the toe of one of her gigantic black leather boots.

Tim held his hands up in surrender. “I come in peace.”

“If Gibbs thinks I’m going to forget about this, he is sorely mistaken.” Abby narrowed her eyes.

“Is she really that bad?” Tim regretted the words the second they came out of his mouth, but luckily Abby didn’t have a violent reaction to his query.

She glanced behind her. Sabrina was sitting in her office looking at something on her computer with one leg bouncing to the beat of the music. “Well, she hasn’t complained about my music. Yet.” Abby was quick to clarify.

Tim gave her a small smile. “So not horrible?”

“I admit nothing.” Abby whirled around and headed over to the computer. “No prints on the letter or the box.” She leaned closer to him to whisper the second part. “I’ve been making up random tests for the past half hour.”

Tim was disappointed. “Nothing?” He’d really hoped that this would be something simple they could get wrapped up by the end of the day.

She shrugged. “Not so much as an eyelash for me to test.”

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “What about the… whatever it was in the box?”

“Both Ducky’s examination and my tests show that it was a cow liver. Big and gross looking, but available in most butcher shops.”

Tim nodded. “I guess I’ll be calling around to find out if anyone sold a cow liver yesterday.”

“Have fun.” Abby made a face. “One of the other teams had better bring me something bloody this afternoon to drive her away or I might snap.”

“Hey Abby?” Sabrina called from the office. “You don’t have any Taylor Swift on here, do you?”

Tim let out an involuntary chuckle. “I’d better get upstairs before Gibbs needs me to… do something.”

“Jerk!” Abby called after him.

***

Tim hung up the phone and let out a sigh.

Ziva looked up from her work. “Nothing?”

“The opposite.” Tim took a deep breath, staring down at the notes he made during his phone calls. “There are more than 24 butcher shops in the DC area alone, and nineteen of those sold beef livers within the past 48 hours.”

“That is a lot of liver.” Ziva raised her eyebrows.

Tim sighed again. “Yeah, I know. Apparently in Russia beef liver and tongue is a delicacy. Along with like 100 other countries and ethnicities. I now know more about organ meats than I ever wanted to know.”

“There is a dish in Israel that consists of chicken hearts, spleens, and liver grilled with bits of lamb.”

Tim wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure I’m that adventurous.”

“That is your loss.” Ziva smiled at him. “I have always found it quite delicious.”

“Yeah. Well, unless we get a suspect or Ducky can give us a profile of the kind of person who likes to mail organ meats, there’s really nothing I can do to narrow things down further.” Tim had gotten the names and credit card numbers of those who had paid by credit, and one shop owner promised to hang onto his security camera footage in case it was needed. Everyone he talked to had been nice, but there just wasn’t enough to go on.

“Uh oh,” Ziva said after a few minutes.

Tim looked up. “What?”

“Tony just emailed me an article on ZMZ.” Ziva stared at her computer screen and read aloud, “’Claims have recently been filed against actor Chris Winston by three different women, claiming that he is the father of their children. According to sources Winston, who is currently shooting the action picture Deep Six, is already paying child support on two children from a previous relationship.’”

Tim’s eyes widened. That was a lot of potential children. He’d known the actor play McGregor had a reputation for being playboy, but this was not great press. “Yikes,” he said.

“It gets worse.” Ziva made a face. “One of the women filing for child support is claiming that she was only sixteen when he slept with her. The District Attorney is looking into filing charges of statutory rape.”

“I wonder if that’s going to impact the movie,” Tim mused. That didn’t matter in the long run, but statutory rape was a serious, serious charge. This made him nervous. If that article was true, this wasn’t exactly the kind of person he wanted people to associate Deep Six with.

Not that he had any choice in the matter, but it didn’t make him happy.

Ever since he had helped Chloe with the script, Tim had been thinking about writing again. He missed it. He hadn’t realized how much until now. And if they managed to make Deep Six into a successful movie, it would make it a lot easier for him to get published again.

Of course all that hinged on him actually having another book in him, something Tim wasn’t so sure of yet. No more Deep Six novels, he’d learned his lesson about basing his characters too much on real people. He’d probably stick to mysteries, since that was he knew the best, but this time he’d need a completely original set of characters.

That scared him. The truth was, Tim could see now how he’d used his friends and workmates as a way to avoid being completely original. He’d grown up so much since then.

“Tim?” Ziva was watching him with a curious expression on her face. “Are you all right?”

Tim nodded. He was more all right than he had been in a long time.


	5. Chapter Four

“You guys have got to check out the food!” Tony gestured excitedly towards the tables from craft services. “Yesterday I had the lasagna and it was the best lasagna I’ve ever had.”

It was the second day of filming, and this time both Ziva and Tim had been sent along with Tony to the film set. (Gibbs had conveniently found some paperwork at the last minute that absolutely had to be filed before the end of that day)

Today scenes were being shot in Rock Creek Park, which normally wouldn’t have required NCIS presence, but Vance wanted to be extra careful after the threatening note the day before.

Tony was showing them around, spouting all the knowledge he had learned the day before, and generally being far more energetic than any one man had any business being at five in the morning. The sun was barely up, but it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day.

“I can’t believe the actors have to show up earlier than this,” a bleary-eyed Tim told Ziva, who was clutching her own Styrofoam cup of coffee tighter than usual.

Tim usually didn’t require more than six hours or so of sleep each night, which as a night owl was definitely a benefit. However, last night he’d been keyed up longer than usual and having to be at the set at five in the morning left him wishing he’d asked for a shot of coffee in his espresso, instead of the opposite.

Chris didn’t seem bothered at all by the tabloid articles that had come out the day before. He was sitting casually in makeup and hair eating a powdered donut and ignoring the horrified expression on the makeup artist’s face as he messed up her work with each bite.

“Probie!” Tim snapped out of what he could only assume was his brain taking a three second nap to find Tony standing in front of him with a plate of pastries.

Tony lifted the plate. “Eat something.”

“Thanks,” Tim told him, picking out what appeared to be a cherry danish.

Tony tried to get Ziva to take a pastry, but she shook her head. “It is far too early to eat,” she told him, and took another sip of her coffee.

The morning passed rather quickly. Even Tony seemed to be getting a little bored by the time eleven o'Clock rolled around. Evan was running all over like a crazy person, shouting at everyone and insisting on a thousand re-takes, even when everything in the previous ten takes had gone perfectly.

The actors didn’t seem phased. Chris rolled his eyes from time to time, but Paul and Maddy simply nodded and continued on. They were obviously more used to how things worked than the agents. Someone told Tim that the actor who was playing L.J. Tibbs was on call in his trailer, but he hadn’t seen him yet.

Around noontime, Chloe plopped down next to Tim. He was sitting off in the shade on a wooden bench, watching the cameramen set up for the next scene. “So, what do you think so far?”

“It’s a lot of hard work,” Tim told her. “I knew acting was challenging, but it still surprised me.”

She smiled. “It’s boring, right?”

“Maybe a little,” Tim admitted. “But only because I’m just a bystander,” he said, trying to be diplomatic. “We’re mostly just here to watch and make sure no one breaks anything.”

Chloe laughed. “Yeah, well you might still have to stop Evan at some point. He can go pretty far to get the right shot. I remember, even at family reunions as a kid, he would drive us all nuts trying to get everyone to smile and stay still for pictures.”

“So is that why you got interested in screenwriting?” Tim asked her. “Because of your uncle?”

Chloe nodded. “Basically. I always loved reading and writing. Evan worked on a kids show when I was younger, and he used to let me come hang out on set during school vacations. He was definitely the ‘cool’ uncle.”

“Both of my uncles are accountants,” Tim told her. “I love them, but I definitely never wanted to go to the office with them.”

“It was a great way to grow up,” Chloe agreed. “I hope I’ll be able to give my daughter the same upbringing.”

“You have a daughter?” McGee asked, surprised. She hadn’t mentioned being a mother the day they’d worked together.

“I do.” Chloe beamed. “Her name is Alyssa and she just turned two. Want to see a picture?” Without waiting for Tim’s answer she pulled out her cell phone and began tapping at the screen.

“She’s beautiful,” Tim told her when she showed him a photo of a tow-headed toddler. “You must miss her.”

“So much.” Chloe sighed, looking down at the picture. “She’s staying with my mom while I’m here. I’ve never been away from her this long before, but she’s just too little to bring along. She’d be even more bored than you are.”

Tim laughed. “I’m not that bored, honest. Just feeling a little useless, that’s all. If your uncle would only threaten to blow something up, I’d have more to do.”

“Don’t even say that,” Chloe chastised him. “You’ll be sorry when he gets it in his head that something needs to explode.”

“Tim?”

He glanced behind them to find Ziva standing there. “What’s up?” he asked her.

Ziva held up her cell phone. “Gibbs is on the line and would like to speak to you.”

Tim nodded, and turned back to Chloe. “I’ll have to talk to you later,” he told her.

“No problem,” she said, waving him off.

Tim took the phone from Ziva and followed her off to the side of the set, where it was less noisy. “Gibbs?” he said, holding the phone up to his ear.

He listened to Gibbs’ curt response and frowned. “When?” he asked.

Ziva watched him carefully, obviously having been briefed already on the situation. Tony happened to be walking by and she grabbed his arm, yanking him closer.

“What?” Tony whined, rubbing his arm dramatically, until he heard Gibbs voice coming loudly through the speakers of the phone. “Oh,” he mumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets and waiting for Tim to hang up.

“We’ll start clearing the set,” McGee told Gibbs, and hung up the phone.

“What’s going on?” Tony wanted to know.

“Someone phoned in a bomb threat to the local PD,” Ziva told him.

“For here?” Tony asked incredulously.

Tim nodded. “Gibbs wants us to clear the set so the local LEOs can check things out.”

“They aren’t bringing NCIS in on this?”

“We aren’t on Navy property,” Tim reminded him. That was part of what made the bomb threat kind of strange. He’d been involved on several cases of bomb threats over the years and they had always involved buildings, large groups, or specific people. An empty clearing in a park with maybe fifty people spread pretty far around didn’t make a likely target.

The three agents immediate began evacuating the cast and crew to a large parking lot that had been roped off for those associated with the film to use. No one looked particularly upset. People just milled around their cars and looked like they were just on a lunch break.

“What is going on?” Evan came charging through the crowd towards the trio of agents. “I have a schedule! You people can’t just delay filming for no good reason!”

Ziva answered him calmly. “There was a bomb threat. We consider that a very good reason to delay filming.”

“A bomb threat?” Evan furrowed his brow. “What in the world for?”

“A bomb.” Tony snickered. “That usually means they want to blow someone or something up.”

Before Evan could fly off the handle again, Tim stepped in. “We have to take threats like this very seriously. The police are already investigating. Unless they find something we should be able to resume filming within an hour or two.”

Evan narrowed his eyes. “It had better not. I have scenes that need to be filmed before the sun goes down,” he told Tim, stalking off, likely to go yell at someone else.

“I am beginning to wish I had taken that pastry earlier.” Ziva swayed a little towards Tim and let out a sigh.

Tim nodded in agreement. “Too bad we had to leave all the food behind.”

“Um.” Paul was standing nearby and cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to intrude, but if you’re really hungry, I keep snacks in my car.”

“Really?” Ziva asked, smiling at the dark haired man. “If it would not be too much trouble I would appreciate something small.”

“No problem,” Paul assured her. “I avoid the craft tables because I have a peanut allergy, so I always have plenty of snacks on hand.”

Tony had turned to talk to a member of the film crew who had some questions and missed the exchange. “Where’s Ziva going?” he asked, frowning after her.

“Just getting something to eat,” Tim told him. “I hope the bomb squad gets here soon.”

“They’re probably already in the clearing with the dogs.” Tony leaned against a white van. “This shouldn’t take more than a couple hours tops to clear things.”

“That’s what I figured.” Tim crossed his arms. “You suppose the same person who threatened Maddie is the one who phoned in the bomb threat?”

Tony shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Normally I’d say yes, but celebrities tend to attract the crazies. That kinda muddies the water.”

Tim looked across the parking lot. Evan was waving his hands around and pacing back in forth in front of Chloe, who didn’t seem phased in the slightest. She caught Tim’s eye and grinned, then rolled her eyes before turning back to Evan.

“So,” Tony said, a wide grin spreading across his face, “the Geek and the Screenwriter, huh?”

“What?” Tim frowned at the agent. Somehow he was thrown off by that question, although he really shouldn’t have been. It took very little to make Tony speculate on possible romances.

Tony nodded towards Chloe. “Oh come on, like you’re not enjoying the attention of her fawning all over the big strong author.”

Tim rolled his eyes. That made him sound so superficial. Of course he enjoyed the attention a little, what guy wouldn’t? And it was nice to know that even after a few years had passed people were still enjoying his books.

Just because Tim had stopped writing didn’t mean he wasn’t still proud of his books. Becoming a writer had been something Tim had hoped to be able to accomplish since he was a teen. He might have some serious second thoughts about his writing, since it had ended up putting his friends in danger, but he was still proud of himself and what he had accomplished.

Before he’d heard about the movie, he’d been in a low place. Feeling very acutely the hole left in his life since quitting writing, Tim had actually been considering dusting off his typewriter and trying to write something. Maybe just a short story, but something.

“Tim.” Ziva jogged up to where he and Tony were standing. “You two need to come see this.”

They followed Ziva back to Paul’s car, where he was standing off to the side looking decidedly uncomfortable.

Ziva pointed to the driver’s side door, which had been left open. “Someone left another note.”

Tony leaned into the car to see and then backed out slowly. “I’ll call Gibbs.”


	6. Chapter Five

Tony was interviewing potential witnesses while Ziva bagged the evidence and Tim took photographs. Gibbs was stalking around somewhere, looking a little less annoyed about the whole movie thing now that he had an actual case to work on.

Tim sighed. At least they knew what the original note had been warning them when it said “go home”. Whoever this person or persons was, they wanted the Deep Six movie shut down. They wanted the cast and crew to go home, they wanted the world to continue on as if plans for a Deep Six movie had never been made.

Evan was furious, ranting and raving even louder than usual about how nobody was going to stop him from making his movie. He refused to cooperate with anything the agents were doing until Gibbs reminded him whoever did this could be facing jail time, serious jail time.

Because the note went into gory detail of what would happen to each and every cast or crew member if the movie was not shut down.

Ziva handed the evidence bag containing the note to a probationary agent standing nearby. “Make sure this gets to Dr. Mallard as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the agent replied, scurrying off towards his vehicle.

Tim paused in taking photos and sighed.

“Are you all right?” Ziva asked.

Tim fiddled with the camera strap. “I’m beginning to feel cursed.”

“Cursed?” she queried, waiting patiently for him to elaborate.

Tim nodded. “When I wrote the Deep Six novels, I messed up my friendships with everyone on the team, and nearly got Abby killed. And now that they’re making a movie it’s been one disaster after another. The common denominator in all of that is me. Therefore, I must be cursed.”

“Tim.” Ziva put a gentle hand on his arm. “Yes, I was angry when I first found out about your books, but it did not mess up our friendship. It was simply a small setback. As for what happened to Abby, that was not your fault. That was a mentally ill fan who did not understand that your stories were not real.”

“It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t based the characters on you guys,” Tim protested.

“Or he would have just picked someone else to fixate on who didn’t have an entire team of law enforcement officers on his side to make sure more people didn’t get hurt.” Ziva squeezed his arm. “Whatever is going on right now has nothing to do with you. You will see when we catch whomever is behind it.”

“I guess.” Tim gave her a small smile. “Thank you, Ziva. I really needed to hear that.”

“That’s what friends are for.” As Ziva gave him a warm smile, their eyes locked.

Tim felt his heart take an extra beat.

“Hey!”

Gibbs shout jolted the couple apart.

The elder agent was giving both of them a steely stare. “You two had better be working.”

Ziva gave Tim a quick wink before darting off to grab a fingerprint kit.

While Ziva began checking the outside of Paul’s car door for prints, Tim leaned down to see if anything else had been left under the seat. If Ducky thought the writer of the note was dangerous the entire car would be sent back to Abby for processing, but it didn’t hurt to be thorough just the same.

He bagged and tagged several half empty water bottles he was sure Paul would identify as his later. When the awkward position he had contorted himself into yielded nothing more than a sore neck and a gum wrapper, Tim was about to give up and go help Tony with the interviews.

Before that could happen, a gentle breeze blew through the open car doors and caused something on the floor mat to shimmer in the sun. Tim grabbed his tweezers and picked the item up, squinting at it upside down.

“Find something?” Ziva asked. He assumed she had finished checking the outside of the door for fingerprints. She stood to his right, staring down at him.

Tim nodded, carefully placing the item in a clear evidence baggie and sealing it shut. “I think so.” He passed it up to Ziva, who took the bag in one hand and used the other to give him a pull up.

Now on his feet, Tim dusted off the back of his pants with his hands. “See it?”

“A long blond hair.” Ziva held the bag up with a curious expression on her face. “I can think of one blond in particular that had access to this vehicle.”

“And I’ve got a witness that saw a certain blond actress in Paul Blake’s car an hour before he found the note.”

Tim and Ziva turned to find Tony standing behind them.

Tony held up his handcuffs. “So, who wants to cuff her?”

***

Sabrina was sitting quietly in the interrogation room, her hands folded in front of her on the table. As Tim and Ziva watched her she sighed.

Several seconds later she began chewing on her thumb nail and playing with a strand of hair with her other hand. Her brow was furrowed and she stared off into the corner, her eyes unfocused.

“I kinda feel sorry for her,” Tim admitted, shoving his hands into his pockets. “She looks kinda lost. And I can’t imagine her writing that letter.”

Ziva raised her eyebrows. “I do not think she even knows how to spell some of the words used in the letter.”

Tim tried not to laugh, but a tiny chuckle escaped.

“I cannot help it.” Ziva smirked and glanced sideways at him. “As much as I do not like to stereotype, she is the definition of a dumb blond.”

“Abby thinks she’s the spawn of Satan come to torture her because she lied to her mother when she was eleven.” Tim shrugged. “Me? I think she’s incredibly naive, if nothing else.”

“You’re one to talk, McGullible.” Tony appeared behind them again. Ziva didn’t look surprised so she must have heard him open the door, but Tim hadn’t heard a thing, which left him a little startled. “Don’t worry, I’ll dig to the truth of the matter, even if I have to grill her all night long.”

“Tony,” Ziva protested, rolling her eyes at the lecherous expression on his face. “Just get in there and do your job or I will.”

“So touchy.” Tony gave Ziva’s butt a quick pat before ducking out of the room.

“I am going to disembowel him with a dull letter opener the next time I see him,” Ziva said, visibly fuming.

Tim bit his lip, trying not to smile. “It’s not really worth it,” he told her. “If he knows it bothers you he’ll only do it more.”

“Probably,” Ziva said, shooting daggers at him through the glass as Tony entered the interrogation room. “But I am not going to forget he did that.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to,” Tim told her. “Definitely wouldn’t expect you to.”

They both turned their attention to the interrogation in progress.

“I don’t understand,” Sabrina was saying. “Why am I here? Did I do something wrong?”

“Did you?” Tony asked, leaning back in his chair casually. “You could save us a whole lot of time and trouble if you’d just write it down.”

Sabrina’s brow furrowed and she blinked several times. “Write what down?”

Tony turned and shot a “Really?!” glance towards the glass. “You don’t have any idea why we brought you down here?”

“No clue.” Sabrina shook her head.

Tony sighed. “Tell me about Paul Blake.”

“Robbie?” Sabrina asked. “He’s a friend. I thought you met him.”

“I did.” Tony sat up straighter. “What’s your relationship with him?”

“Relationship? We’re just friends.” Sabrina bit her lip. “Am I in trouble?”

“Did it really take her this long to figure that out?” Ziva muttered, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

Tim shrugged. He could honestly say he had no idea what, if anything, was going through Sabrina’s head right now.

Tony decided to try another tactic. “Why did you threaten him, Sabrina? Did you want to take things to the next level but he refused?”

“Threaten him?” She echoed. “What in the world are you talking about? I never threatened Robbie!”

“You deny being the one who put the note in his car?”

“Yes!” Sabrina leaned forward, urgency written all over her face. “Why would I threaten Robby? I love him.”

“Love him.” Tony chuckled. “I thought you were just friends.”

Sabrina glared at Tony. “Stop it! Just stop it. You’re being mean.”

Tony glanced back at the glass and threw his hands up. “Okay, I give up. Why don’t you just tell me why we found a very long, very blond hair in his front seat, right where we found the note.”

Sabrina blushed. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Tony coaxed.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I got hungry.”

When Tony came back into the observation room, he was shaking his head. “That’s the weirdest interrogation I’ve had to do in awhile.”

Tim was still kind of dumbstruck. Apparently Sabrina was every bit as naive as he’d suspected. She genuinely had no idea what they were talking about. Apparently Paul was known by most of the cast and crew as an excellent baker, and it wasn’t unusual for friends and co-workers to sneak a cookie out of his stash.

“You believe her?” Tony asked Ziva, who was standing very carefully out of his arm span.

“I do,” she told him. “I do not believe Sabrina is capable of making a story like that up.”

“Me neither,” Tony agreed. “I guess we’re back to square one.”

***

“It wasn’t her?” Tim had gone downstairs to check on Abby’s progress with the note and the pigtailed woman looked downright disappointed in the news that Sabrina was not behind the threats.

Tim shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

“Darn.” Abby made a face. “That means Vance is still going to let her follow me around tomorrow.”

“I thought she already tailed you for a day?”

Abby rolled her eyes. “She did, but apparently I’m too much fun and she wants to do it again while they’re shooting the big action scene tomorrow.”

“If they shoot the big action scene,” Tim corrected her. “We still don’t know who’s making these threats. I can’t see Vance not recommending that they postpone the shoot.”

“There’s always hope,” Abby quipped.

Tim stood there for a moment, waiting for her to talk. “Um, Abs? The note?”

“Oh!” Abby whirled around to her computer and started typing. “I found several complete prints on the note, unfortunately they all belonged to Paul. I did manage to get one partial, but it’s not enough to run through AFIS. At best it could rule a suspect out.”

“Then that’s what we’ll use it for.” Tim felt his heart actually skip a beat when he heard Gibbs’ voice. It had been awhile since Gibbs had snuck up on him like that.

Gibbs clapped him on the back. “Breathe, McGee. Abby, I want to know exactly what tree in what forest they harvested that paper from.”

“Running it through Major Mass Spec as we speak,” she assured him.

“C’mon,” Gibbs told Tim. “I’ll tell you what Ducky said on the way upstairs.”


	7. Chapter Six

“Absolutely not!”

Tim felt his heart sink. Vance had called Evan up to his office early that evening to strongly suggest that they postpone the next day of shooting until the team could narrow down the suspect pool. Gibbs had even assured him that it wouldn’t take more than a couple of days, but Evan wasn’t biting.

The tiny man began pacing back and forth in front of the directors desk, his hands waving frantically as he gestured. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to assemble 250 active servicemen on a single day? And then get permission from their superiors for them to be extras in an action scene for a movie?”

“I wouldn’t be comfortable putting them at risk,” Gibbs said, apparently getting more calm the more worked up Evan got.

“What risk?” Evan demanded. “I thought your man said whoever did this wasn’t violent?”

Director Vance answered that one. “Dr. Mallard said he does not believe the writer of the most recent note is violent in nature, but the language indicates whoever it is is getting angrier the more you ignore them.”

“Let ‘em get angry,” Evan spat out. “The only thing I care about is getting enough film in the next week and a half to make this movie look decent on the big screen.”

“Ducky also said there was a high risk of escalation,” Gibbs reminded them. “He didn’t think it was a prank. Whoever left this note is serious.”

“So am I.” Evan stopped pacing. “Look, in Hollywood the crackpots are a dime a dozen. If I stopped filming every time some nut job sent threats I’d never get anything done. I can’t do things differently just because I’m in D.C.”

As much as he disagreed with the decision, Tim couldn’t say he thought Evan was making the wrong decision. When Ziva had talked to the studio’s lawyers, they’d emailed a list of several hundred threats that had been made in the past month.

“Besides,” Evan said, gesturing to Tim, who had been standing off to the side and out of the way during this fight. “I’ve got McGregor here and the other agents to protect us.”

“McGee,” Vance corrected him.

Evan shrugged. “Whatever.”

***

Tim had to admit, it would take someone seriously stupid to try and pull anything serious with 250 active servicemen and half of NCIS patrolling around the set, on a Navy base.

But he’d learned over his years as an agent that people tend to do pretty stupid things when they were feeling desperate, and Ducky had said the letter was dripping with desperation.

He just had a really bad feeling about today, a tiny dark cloud in his thoughts that he couldn’t seem to shake.

It didn’t seem right to be making a movie when there was a case to investigate. Sure, it wasn’t a serial killer or anything, but it was still a case, and it deserved to be investigated to the fullest of their ability.

“Hey, you okay?” Chloe nudged Tim gently with her shoulder.

Tim nodded quickly. “Yeah, of course. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” She tilted her head.

“I am,” Tim fibbed. “Just a little tired. Boss kept us up late last night working on the case.”

“Oh.” She fiddled with the papers she was carrying.

“Did you need something?” Tim asked when it was obvious she wasn’t going to make the next move.

She shook her head. “No, it’s not important. I was just going to get your opinion on a couple lines I tweaked this morning. It’s no biggie.”

Tim held out his hand. “Let me look.”

“You sure?” Chloe handed him the script. “It’s just those two highlighted lines there. I’ve been staring at them so long I’ve totally lost perspective.”

“They both look great,” Tim told her honestly, after scanning the lines and the surrounding script. “I think you know the characters nearly as well as I do.”

She blushed. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

Tim couldn’t help smiling. Chloe was a few years younger than the girls he usually went for, but she really was sweet. He glanced over her head to find Ziva watching him from across the set. She had a strange expression on her face.

Someone shouted for Chloe and she disappeared into the crowd with a hurried goodbye. Tim didn’t drop his gaze from Ziva until someone approached her and she was forced to look away.

That was weird, he thought, shaking his head and trying to get back to the task at hand, which was scanning the crowd for anyone who looked guilty.

He saw Paul standing alone by his chair and made his way over to him. “Isn’t Tony supposed to be staying near you?” he asked.

“He’s with Evan. He insisted on checking the guns and blanks being used in the next scene,” Paul told him, pulling a bottle of water out of a duffel bag beside his chair.

“He shouldn’t have left you.” Tim frowned.

Paul shrugged. “Maddie got the first note, we don’t even know this person’s after me. Seems like they just want us to stop filming.”

“We don’t know what else they want.” Tim sighed, going back to scanning the crowd. He still had that bad feeling, he just couldn’t shake it. And the massive crowd of people he saw only as potential suspects wasn’t helping.

“Cookie?”

Tim turned in surprise to Paul, who was holding a fat chocolate chip cookie in his hand. “I made them last night,” the actor told him. “I bake when I can’t sleep.”

“Maybe later,” Tim told him. He was way too tense to eat.

“Help yourself,” Paul told him, settling down in his chair, water bottle in one hand and cookie in the other.

“Blake, you’re up!” Someone shouted just as Paul was about to take a bite.

“Damn,” he muttered, standing up. He stuffed the entire cookie in his mouth and left the water bottle sitting on his chair.

Tim watched him cross the grassy area to where the scene had been set up. After a couple steps, he wobbled a little.

“Oh my god!” Tim heard someone shout, and he set off running across the grass. When he reached Paul, he realized why they had yelled. Hives were already breaking out on Paul’s arms and he was scratching at his throat.

“What’s going on?” Ziva shouted as she appeared next to Tim.

“I think he’s having an allergic reaction,” someone standing nearby answered.

“Paul, are you okay?” Tim asked, knowing what a stupid question it was the second it left his lips, but still hoping somewhere inside him that he would say he was fine.

Paul opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Ziva was already dialing 911. “Where’s your epi-pen?” she asked Paul. He tried to point, but collapsed to his knees.

“It’s probably in his bag,” Tim said, already running towards Paul’s duffel bag. Bag in hand, he ran towards the crowd that had formed around Paul.

An older woman he recodnized as working with the cameramen was already administering CPR when he returned. He emptied the bag out onto the ground and dug around for anything that looked like an epi-pen.

By the time he found it, the first EMT’s were already on the scene. They administered the epinephrine and quickly loaded Paul onto a gurney, continuing CPR.

Gibbs appeared just as the paramedics were taking Paul to the ambulance. “What the hell’s going on?”

“He’s having an allergic reaction,” Ziva told him.

Tim swallowed. “He said he was allergic to peanuts.”

“I thought he only ate things he brought for himself.” Ziva frowned.

“He did.” Tim glanced down at the open Tupperware container of cookies now spread across the ground. “He ate one of those just a minute before. Said he baked them himself.”

Gibbs’ expression was steely. “Don’t let anyone touch anything.”

***

Tony hung up the phone. “He’s in critical condition, but he’s breathing again,” he told the team. They were assembled in the bull pen, having left several junior agents behind at the scene to take statements.

Abby was already analyzing the cookies from Paul’s bag and Ziva was helping her check everything for fingerprints.

Tim was desperately trying to focus his eyes on the words in front of him. Every time the image of Paul being carried away by the paramedics flashed into his head the words blurred and his hands trembled.

As far as he could tell, Paul Blake did not have a single enemy in the world. Fans and critics alike loved the man. He’d dated the same woman for four years, then they amiably split and she said such nice things about him in interviews, there wasn’t even a hint that they weren’t still good friends.

It appeared that the only thing Paul Blake had done to get himself targeted was to accept a role in Deep Six.

He could tell Tony and Gibbs were watching him, but he couldn’t look up. Tim just kept typing, kept focusing on the work at hand, kept trying not to think about Paul.

Kept trying not to think that this was all his fault.

Hours passed, and Tim stayed silent, delivering information to Tony or Ziva by email. Both seemed to instinctively realize he needed to be left alone, but he wasn’t unaware of the worried expressions on their faces.

He overheard Tony talking to the hospital again. There had been no change in Paul’s status. Apparently Sabrina had insisted on going to the hospital the second she heard what had happened, and was not budging from his side.

“I didn’t realize they were that close,” Ziva remarked.

“No one did.” Tony shrugged. “She didn’t seem like his type either.”

They were quiet for a few minutes.

“I don’t understand,” Tony said. “Abby said there was only a minute trace of peanut oil on a couple of the cookies. And McGee said he only ate one.”

“Peanut allergies are very serious,” Ziva told him. “Reactions get more severe over time and sometimes all it takes is something brushing against their skin. There was a story on the news last year about a woman whose boyfriend ate a peanut butter sandwich, kissed her four hours later, and she died.”

Tim glanced over at Tony, whose mouth was gaping open. He hadn’t known much about it either until he started searching on the internet. After what he had read, he was not optimistic that Paul would wake up. Not after a reaction that severe.

Tim turned back to his computer screen. He had narrowed the list of suspects down to only the cast and crew that were present both yesterday and today. Paul was ruled out, for obvious reasons, and Maddie unlikely given her reaction to the first threat.

It just didn’t make sense. Why would someone working on the movie want them to stop filming? They could go home at any time. No one was holding them here.

Tim continued compiling information on the suspect list even after Gibbs sent him home that night. He couldn’t sleep anyway, not with this hanging over his head.

It was nearly four in the morning when he received a text from Tony letting him know that Paul had passed away without regaining consciousness.

The news gave him the second wind he needed to keep working. Slowly, but surely, a valid suspect was becoming more clear form the information.

When he arrived at work the next day, Tim went straight to Gibbs’ desk and set a stack of printed out pages on his desk.

“I know who did it.”


	8. Chapter Seven

Tim paused in front of the interrogation room, taking a moment to be thankful Gibbs was letting him do this interview. This case was so much more personal for him than for the other agents, and he knew that was usually a liability.

In this case, he hoped it would aid in closure.

He entered the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Silently sitting down in the empty chair, Tim set the file folder he was carrying down on the table and leaned back.

“Someone gonna tell me why the hell I’m in here?” Evan demanded, his arms crossed while he glared across the table at Tim.

“I think you know why you’re here,” Tim told him calmly. “In fact, I think you know a lot of things, many of which would have been useful to know earlier.”

Evan stayed silent, still glaring at him.

Tim decided to lay all his cards out on the table. “How long have you known Chloe was the one harassing the cast?”

Evan broke eye contact. For the first time since Tim had met him, he saw vulnerability in the man’s face. “Since Maddie got the package,” he admitted.

That surprised Tim, who hadn’t realized it would have been that early on. “No wonder you didn’t seem concerned.”

“I knew she wasn’t going to hurt anyone.”

Tim raised his eyebrows.

Evan sighed. “Well, I didn’t think she would anyway. She was just upset. I figured she was blowing off steam.”

“You still should have let us know.”

“I know.” Evan pursed his lips. “Just, try to go easy on her? I don’t think she ever intended to hurt anyone, and she’s still my niece.”

“I can try,” Tim told him,” but I can’t make any promises.”

Evan nodded. “Didn’t figure you could, but I appreciate it anyway.”

Tim stood up, taking the file folder with him as he walked down the hallway to the second interrogation room. This time he hesitated in front of the door.

“You need help?” He looked up to see Ziva standing at the end of the hallway, leaning against one of the orange walls.

Tim shook his head. “I’ll be okay. But thanks.”

“Anytime.” The look in Ziva’s eyes told him just how serious she was.

Tim straightened his spine and walked into the interrogation room with his head held up high. He summoned up all the confidence he had acquired solving this investigation and sat across the table from Chloe Ryan.

She blinked at him, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen, her hands shaking as she clasped them in front of her on the table.

Tim said nothing. He just waited.

I’m not a bad person,” Chloe told him, a fresh set of tears welling up in her eyes. She looked up and blinked rapidly, keeping them from falling. “I’m not.”

He glanced behind him at the two way mirror, where Ziva was likely watching. This was not how Tim had expected this case to wind up. He’d kind of gotten close to Chloe this past week, and knowing she was responsible for everything didn’t feel good, but knowing Ziva was there to support him did.

“I’m not a killer,” Chloe continued. “I’m not.”

Tim sighed. “Paul Blake is dead.”

“He wasn’t supposed to die!”

“Then what was supposed to happen?” Tim probed, keeping his voice low and steady. He was used to wanting to shake and scream at criminals, but this case was hitting so close to home for him.

“He was supposed to quit the movie!” Chloe exclaimed. “If he’d just quit the movie and come back to California none of this would have happened!”

“Paul?” Tim asked, already knowing the answer.

Chloe shook her head. “Chris.”

“Why did you want Chris to go back to California?”

This time she didn’t stop the tears from falling. “I thought if I could get him to come back he would start taking care of his daughter.”

Tim’s mouth fell open a little. That he hadn’t been expecting. “He’s the father of your daughter?”

Chloe nodded. “He worked with Uncle Evan on a project almost three years ago. When I found out I was pregnant I kept trying to get in touch with him but he wouldn’t call me back. I kept trying to show up at the studio but I guess they’re used to women showing up and wanting to see him. No one would let me in.”

Tim listened to her story patiently.

“When Alyssa was born I tried to just focus on her, but it just wasn’t fair. She deserved a father who cared about her. One who at least acknowledged her existence. I reached out to a couple of his ex-girlfriends, and that’s when I found out Alyssa wasn’t the only child he was denying.”

“So you contacted the tabloids.” Tim had suspected that was involved in the case, but it wasn’t until that moment that he had it confirmed. Now he knew why.

“Yeah.” Chloe sniffled. “When I found out Chris was working on Deep Six I convinced Uncle Evan to hire me. I thought if I could just talk to him…” she let her voice trail off.

“I guess the conversation didn’t go well,” Tim said after she was quiet for almost a minute.

She shook her head. “He tried to pay me off. Said he was ‘too busy’ to be a father. That he traveled too much. I knew if the film fell through he would have a couple months free. I just needed some time to get him to change his mind.”

Tim wasn’t without sympathy for the young woman in front of him. She had obviously been through a lot.

But none of that changed the fact that Paul Blake was dead.

“If he would just meet her,” Chloe whispered. “If I could just get him to meet her, just once, he’d love her. I know he would.”


	9. Epilogue

Now he knew better.

Tim pulled the last sheet of paper from his recently dusted off typewriter and smiled. He hadn’t thought he had another story in him, definitely not another Deep Six novel, but there it was.

The last page.

This time the characters were inspired by real people with permission, and not ignorance. And they were truly just inspired by real people, not near carbon copies of them.

The anxiety and depression the case had brought back into Tim’s life hadn’t disappeared when he solved the case. Mental illness didn’t work that way. Instead, he’d found a local therapist and began meeting with her twice a month. It was taking time, but Tim was finally coming to grips with what had almost happened to Abby all those years ago and also what had happened to Paul.

He wasn’t cured, but he was slowly getting better each day, returning to the things that brought him pleasure. Actually feeling happy again.

Being able to write again was a huge part of that.

A lot had happened in the past several months since Paul’s death. Unwilling to re-cast Paul, Evan had convinced Tim to work with him in changing the script to write in the sudden and unexpected death of Agent McGregor. Using the scenes that had already been shot, Evan was piecing together an entirely new movie which would be dedicated to the memory of Paul Blake.

Tim knew it would be bittersweet seeing the film when it premiered next year. It was still his work and he was very proud of it, but on the other hand it would remind him of a very emotionally stressful time in his life.

Even now, very few days went by that he did not think of all that had happened. Just last week he had watched the live coverage on ZNN as Chloe pled guilty to manslaughter. She was expected to be sentenced to serve 5-15 years.

She had written a long letter to Tim after making the decision to plead guilty. She expressed remorse and sorrow, along with hope that Tim could forgive her. She also wanted to let Tim know that Chris had filed for visitation with their daughter, and apparently had decided to forge relationships with his other children as well.

“I will regret my part in Paul’s death until the day I die,” she wrote, “but I cannot help feeling joy that my daughter will get to know her father. I only wish I hadn’t robbed her of her mother in the process.”

Tim couldn’t deny he had received benefits from the tragedy himself.

“Are you done?” Ziva asked, placing a hand on Tim’s shoulder and resting her chin on top of his head.

“I am.” Tim slid his hand up to cover hers, squeezing it and smiling.

No, Tim had received something far better than his writing skills or a movie credit.

He had Ziva.

She had begun showing up with meals for Tim and homemade treats for Jethro shortly after the case ended. Jethro, of course, immediately fell in love with her and snubbed Tim whenever the Israeli was around.

Neither of them had tried to define the new paradigm in their relationship. They simply let things develop naturally. However, Tim suspected it would not take much more for him to fall completely in love with Ziva.

Jethro appeared next to them and whined, feeling left out. The two laughed and lavished attention on the overgrown puppy, who basked in the experience.

Jethro followed Ziva as she headed to the kitchen to make some popcorn while Tim put away his things. He covered his typewriter and placed the completed manuscript in his filing cabinet.

It had taken a tragedy to give him back confidence in himself, Tim mused. It would likely always be a struggle for him, Tim just hadn’t been born with the natural confidence that Ziva and many of his other friends possessed.

If he ever found himself slipping again, Tim had no doubt that Ziva would pull him back, long before he reached crisis point. He wouldn’t say that her friendship had saved him, but she had played a very large part in helping one Timothy McGee figure out who he was.

And somewhere along the way, he’d rediscovered just who Thom E. Gemcity was as well.


End file.
